Hero in the Meltdown
by GlitterSharkEats
Summary: Oh snap, Zombies and Zombie Zoids. Watch two kids flail and try to keep their brains in their heads while trying to save the world at the same time. Ah, life.
1. Sad Story starts with a Bam

Zombie!fic. Because zombies are the shit, I guess. Anything is better then vamps at this point. So yeah, Dragon and Adamaris running from brain-chewing beasties and demented Zoids. Funfunfun.

Short chapter but it gets better later on! This is a sort of introduction to the story, I guess? Also trying out with new writing styles, so this is a bit different from my other one's.

Fair warning, guys. Zombies and stuff means there will be mass amount of blood, guts, gore, swearing, and general mayhem goodness. Nothing serious enough for an M rating but.....okay, the worst of it will come with another warning before the chapter starts. Seem fair? Awesome.

More Zoids show up, I promise. Can't have a Zombie fic with ZOMBIE ZOIDS, AHHHH.

'Joy :3

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At first, the news reports said to just be careful, stay inside, and lock your doors. Ration your food. Shut down any Zoids, Organoids. Carry weapons. Don't get a paper cut, because this disease is still traveling through the air. And we can't fight it. Stay put, help is on the way. Lock your windows. Barricade the door. Sleep with a gun. Don't sleep at all.

After the second week, the news reports stopped. Neither Griffon nor Fenrir were anywhere in sight, and Dragon didn't know if she should be thankful or worried. Whatever plague floated in the air, some contagious crap, it affected people as well as Zoids and other "living" mechanical things. Dragon lifted the T.V. remote and turned the T.V. on, only to be greeted by the harsh grainy static that had been on for the last 14 days. Geez, that long already? Who kept count?

Dragon, apparently. They still had fucking electricity and water, a small supply of food and two bulky shotguns but seriously, they heard the Zoids stomping around out there, moaning and roaring as if their circuits were being chewed alive, which they probably were. How the fuck did Zoids catch a disease? How could they protect themselves against rabid, multi-ton monsters?

Adamaris said some crazy lunatic scientist mixed Deochalcum with the nuclear waste from Earth, hoping to create some sort of super drug designed to kill off internal diseases, like the ones that caused people to freak out or twitch or see things that weren't there. Instead, it came with the exact opposite effect and turned shit into brain-munching _zombies._ Dragon covered her eyes with the blunt of her palms, drowning out sight completely. Zombies. What sort of fairy-tale bullshit happened here? But Adamaris said this couldn't be stopped, because the disease leaked and hey guess what, it travels by air! And water. Then it mixes with the Zoid's Core fluid and drives them insane. Bonkers. Bat-shit crazy. Feral.

Dragon heard them outside, the Zoids. Sometimes the Organoids, but she didn't like thinking about that because her own Organoids were out there somewhere, dying or living or in some fuzzy gray area. Eventually the disease won out and killed the metal critters, but until then they became encased in complete black with scary red eyes and they ripped each other apart. Dragon thought of Flare, Wolfgang, Seto, and Romeo, stowed away in who-the-fuck-knows, when the city tried to cram as many Zoids as possible onto transports to cart them away before the disease spread further. Some fucking epidemic, the Black Plague that existed back on Earth, only worse.

Zombie Zoids are more dangerous then zombie people. Those who got infected, their skin turned gray and clammy, eyes dull and vacant with mouths that could open like a snake's, baring teeth and blood and chewed-up organs. Dragon and Adamaris would sit, staring out their big picture window on the 6th floor of their apartment and watch, guns loaded as the zombies dragged themselves along the streets, all bloody and broken and gross.

Dragon knew how to pilot Zoids no sweat, but pulling the _actual_ trigger on an _actual_ gun proved to open a whole new can of worms. Especially an awkward, long-barreled rifle that, Dragon swore by on all she knew, possessed a mind of its own. The first time, Dragon nearly shot off Adamaris' hand, but thankful he dodged and the bullet left a nice gaping hole in their wall. Oh well. The landlord, dead or eaten or zombiefied, probably had bigger things to worry about. Dragon learned how to shoot a gun eleven days ago. Now they were on day fourteen and the guns were used only once, when a zombie tried climbing up the fire escape and Dragon screamed her throat bloody because _Oh Ra, ew, its right there, ew! _Not only did it look gross, but the zombie, seriously, just climbed up five floors and tried to break the window.

Adamaris, not really the macho type since he adores coffee and can't really pilot, came barging in Imperial soldier style, gun in his hands, and look of toughness on his face. Ready to kill, protect, serve, whatever. The rifle leveled and _bam!_ The zombie flailed and fell off the fire escape, half of his face missing, his splatter mark baked into the sidewalk from the blazing sun.

They taped the broken window up. The air smelled stale and old, even outside. Inside proved to be no better, despite the tiny air fresheners littering the rooms, Adamaris' idea of a joke. When Dragon took the time to look at him, like _really_ look at him, she picked out all the fine and tiny details. The paleness of his skin, the gaunt tightness of his face and the sharp shoulder blades poking out from under his shirt. He didn't sleep much, only stared out the window with the gun on his lap, looking beyond exhausted.

Dragon stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her appearance fared no better.

The city, save for its flesh-chomping citizens and dueling mechas, seemed totally vacant of living people. Living as in, people with heartbeats and brains still attached firmly to their skulls. On one rare occasion, when they completely ran out of food, Dragon snuck off into Adamaris' Camaro. She figured that the car, fast enough to avoid people and small enough to get away from Zoids, would be the key to her and Adamaris' survival. Dragon made it the corner mini-mart, fighting back guilt as she grabbed armfuls of apples and pears, chips and bananas and even Coco Ligers cereal. All the goodies were haplessly tossed in the Camaro's trunk before Dragon ran back into the store, grabbing orange juice and water bottles and even energy drinks and chocolate bars.

The drive back, less then 100 feet, became the scariest drive ever when this Zoid, all black and dripping _something_ came barreling out from a side street. A Gun Sniper, but with a sheared off arm and a missing bottom jaw. Still a beyond terrifying sight, with an angry lashing tail and empty gun barrels clicking like so many hungry mouths. The Gun Sniper leered down at the Camaro with a look of pure starvation, as if the car and its driver were some form of gourmet treat.

Dragon gunned the engine, and thank Ra Camaros were built for speed, for that car just beasted out of there, smoke flying from the tires. The Gun Sniper screeched after her, but its cry escalated into a gurgled and choked yelp when something much bigger suddenly crashed into the Zoid, hooking it with bladed teeth and ripping the thing apart.

Dragon, halfway to her apartment's garage, couldn't bear to look and see what new threat they had to worry about. Shivering, she loaded the food into her arms, pockets, and sweatshirt hood before making her way back up to the apartment.

So, like, it sucked living like this. Worrying, constantly. Non-stop. All the time. Endless. Dragon sat on the couch, feet propped up on the worn coffee table, Adamaris' head in her lap with her fingers stroking through his hair, soft and full and wow, they weren't a _couple_ or anything, just…..Dragon wanted him close, because he was all she had left.

On the 26th day, the Camaro ran out of gas. Dragon still had her Hummer, but said tank-like car ran slower and pretty sluggishly, not to mention it's bulky as Hell. So running outside for groceries and water and tissues and toilet paper came to a moot point. Dragon felt herself going stir-crazy. Adamaris watched her with sad eyes while the sun set and the city filled itself with howls and awful screams of not-people and not-Zoids.

It happened on the 31st day. Dragon, lazing on the couch with phone in hand (no service, of course), minding her complete business, reading a book she read about six times already when Adamaris stomped into the room. Dragon glanced at him. His face, worn and tired, steely eyes lackluster, stared back at her. He looked older, older then 24. Zombie Apocalypse probably had that effect on people. His rifle and backpack were slung over his shoulders.

"We're leaving. Taking the Hummer. We need to get out of here." Adamaris said, his voice quiet but forceful. Dragon frowned, brows furrowing. Honestly, she wanted to stay here, no quarrel over living like mice trapped in a sewer. Sure, food and stuff ran lower and lower every day but still, they were _safe_ here. Out in the open, the big wide infected world, not so safe.

"And go where?" Came her simple answer, the book gently placed on the coffee table.

"Anywhere. We can't stay here. There have to be people somewhere who aren't affected. People like us, who are immune." Adamaris stood stock still, unwavering, a stone pillar. He never tried to mask what he felt. Dragon easily picked up the distress and misery in his words and in a way, she loved him even more for that.

Love as in _friend_ love. Not _love_ love. Dragon couldn't explain why they were immune to the airborne disease; Dragon thought it could be from her short time as a Gil Vader hybrid, or her prolonged exposure to Deochalcum. But as for Adamaris? No clue. Maybe Dragon sent off Deochalcum radiation or something. Whatever. Dragon wasn't going to question it.

She shook her head. No, no way could they leave and skip around outside like fucking tourists in the middle of summer. "We go outside, we _die_," Dragon pointed out, damnit that Adamaris' thick head prevented him from actually thinking. "Ra, what are we going to do? Shoot a _Zoid_ with bullets? Run from un-dead people who can't _die_?" Dragon, voice rising until her throat hurt, found herself standing up with no memory of how she got there. Dragon never yelled, never lost her temper. She figured that, okay; being locked in a house surrounded by dead cannibal freaks provided her with a legitimate reason to lose her head.

Adamaris gazed back at her, unmoving. Dragon hated that. He never got mad. Ever. Dragon never heard him shout or seen his eyes flare in anger. Her hands clenched into fists. Outside, a Zoid, -Redler, perhaps?- careened through the air, screaming a horrible cry that sliced through the silence with all the power of a laser blade.

"Okay," Adamaris said, softly. His eyes held a new sort of wariness to them, his hands up in a surrendered plea, like Dragon had become one of the fucking crazed people outside and he was only trying to not get himself bitten. "We won't leave. We'll stay here," He padded away from Dragon, down the hall to his bedroom. "But I don't think help is coming and we can't live here much longer."

At 2:46 in the morning, Dragon heard the lightest tapping sound coming from her window, right across from her bed. Dragon, enormously grateful for this sleep, tugged the blankets higher and let the peaceful sky of dreams settled back over her. The wind, or a branch, nothing serious. Only the tapping got louder, hectic and forced, causing Dragon to grunt in anger, sleep still blurring her vision as she sat upright and glared at the window.

Oh hi, zombies that were trying to get into her room. Dragon stared, stupefied into a state of paralysis as four hungry faces deadpanned back at her, jaws all broken and teeth cracked, black fingers vying for her through the glass. And ew, disgusting, they were all hairless and gray with sunken black holes around their eyes, but their _eyes_ were red and glowing, unblinking and Dragon, with blankets bunched up around her, felt her jaw go limp in shock.

One of the zombies mimicked the movement. Dragon finally found her voice and she screamed, blood running cold and her heart promptly overdosed on adrenaline. The blankets flailed around her as she stumbled, wide-awake and alert, falling out of bed so ungracefully, reaching here, there, and everywhere for that damn rifle. The second Dragon gripped the barrel, her window shattered, catapulting glass shards in every direction. Dragon squeaked, back pressed up against her bed as she fired, blindly, into the mess.

Shit, four zombies, four of them! All trying to wiggle into her room, Dragon must have missed because she heard no agonized yelps or anything so she fired again, the rifle jetting backwards since her grip sucked, her hands were so sweaty. She saw them; saw those scarlet eyes and gaping mouths hungry for her, death or infection, what could be worse?

One of the zombies jerked, freezing for a second before turning to bare bloody teeth at the doorway. From the corner of her eye, Dragon saw Adamaris standing there in his pajamas, rifle leveled and aimed at the zombies. Two of them successfully gotten into the room, clothes all shred and moldy, skin hanging off in chunks. Adamaris fired again. The zombie stumbled backwards, the remains of his arm one with Dragon's curtains.

"Dragon, move!" Adamaris yelled, sending her a split-second look before firing another bullet. Dragon needed no further instruction. She scrambled onto her bed, clambering along its length before rolling to her feet beside her friend. The gun swung up and she fired, this time actually aiming, and watched with some sort of sick pride as a zombie doubled over, his stomach exploded with black blood and dangling intestines dripping out.

Adamaris looked horrified. "We need to leave, before more of them come!" His voice cracked, chipped with fear, and he turned and ran with Dragon on his heels. No time to stop and grab anything, just with the clothes on their backs, the guns in their hands, and the zombies staggering after them, moaning and groaning like in all those cheap horror movies only instead of big-boobed actresses and handsome heroes, this shit was real.

Dragon nearly tripped down the stairs, almost collided with Adamaris, but she managed to save herself as they jumped down, feet impossibly loud in this stifling silence of nothing. They burst open the door leading to the garage, hearts pounding, breath tearing from their lungs in ragged gasps as they threw themselves into the Hummer. Hands shaking, Dragon turned the key and thank Ra, thank Eve, the big red monster started up perfect with a rumbly, snarling roar. The zombies –three now- peered out of the doorway, pulsing viscous black blood as Adamaris brought the rifle up, shooting once, twice at the fucking creepers and blasting their damn brains out.

The Hummer broke through the garage door and Dragon winced, but quickly remembered that she drove a _Hummer,_ the biggest, baddest, meanest car ever created. The Gil Vader of cars. She would be surprised to find so much as a dent in the red metal. Adamaris motioned quickly, the rifle settled in his lap, sweat pasting his bangs to his face.

"Drive, drive!" He ordered, frantic, scared, piss-in-your-pants frightened. About to puke, vomit all over the car, toss your cookies and blow chunks but Dragon spare him a glare. No throwing up in my car. Behind them, the Zoids limped out of the garage and looking out the rearview mirror Dragon saw more of the ugly fucks emerging from the blackness. She gunned the engine and the Hummer responded in kind, bellowing its mighty power before lurching forward, tires squealing.

Adamaris took a few deep gulps of air. Dragon slowed down a bit once the zombies faded from view. Darkness still covered the city. Dragon didn't put the headlights on, didn't want to attract any undead monsters. She slowed down a bit, because Hummers tended to overheat if driven too fast for too long. Her hands were still shaking, trembling on the wheel she held like the answer to all these problems. Adamaris groped for her hand, settled his on top of her eyes and gripped it with loving kindness, a physical _hey, I'm here with you._

"I told you we needed to leave." He whispered, smiling faintly, a touch of sleep-deprived humor it his eyes. Now they had no home and nowhere to go. No food or water, just pajamas and guns with barely any bullets and a tough Hummer. Dragon returned the grin, because as lame and corny as it sounded……they still had each other.

---

End of chapter. Read, rate, review, whatever. I love that stuff, guys!


	2. Night Thieves in Daylight

Ch 2. A little more graphic in the end. And oh, I'm trying stuff with like, emotions and....sexual teenage angst, I guess? Not in an immature way, I swear. In no way will this fic become a gross pants off dance off thing. But okay, Dragon and Atlas are kids, I'm a kid, and I want to see how I write "love" related things and all. Lol its gonna be so totally awkward. I feel so awkward right now.

Anyway. Read, rate, and review. Really, I love that stuff! I don't bite. This is a....decent fic and I would love for people to read it.

More Zoids in later chaps, I swear. It'll start getting REALLY good later on but....this chap kinda sucks. Sorry. D: You can see where I sorta had a massive brain fart towards the end and completely bullshit everything. Oh, me.

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"Okay. We need food, water and shelter. The basics," Adamaris rattled off, long legs curled underneath him in the most awkward position that ever existed. Dragon's gaze slowly drifted from the road to look at him, contorted in such a way that he heavily resembled a human pretzel. "Shelter first, somewhere we can't be detected."

They've been driving for what felt like forever. Dragon's foot cramped on the gas pedal as the Hummer chugged along, freshly rejuvenated from a recent pit stop at a gas station. Dragon stayed by the car, pumping gas into the tank while her fingers idled on the rifle barrel. Adamaris broke into the quickie mart but only managed to snag three water bottles and a few protein bars before a gaggle of zombies fucking _materialized _out of nowhere, all gaunt and smelly, arms straight out ahead of them as they groaned some demented battle cry.

After some stellar quick thinking and fancy footwork, both Dragon and Adamaris succeeded in leaping into the Hummer _through the open windows_. Adamaris dangled out of said window, rifle barrel poised at the zombies as Dragon gunned the engine, sending her beloved tank shooting forward with all the might of a speeding train. Adamaris pulled the trigger, but the bullet went long and embedded itself in the wall of the quickie mart.

At least they got away. These narrow escapes were really taking a shit on Dragon's nerves. Her whole body bounced along with the tires on the bumpy road. Her throat felt coated in slimy phlegm and fear pressed a heavy weight on her chest, making it hard to breathe. "More bullets? And…..geez, what about the Zoids?" She questioned, trying to keep her voice from cracking and failing miserably. So surreal, this whole thing. She wanted to wake up and have everything and everybody be normal. Fat chance of that actually happening, but….

Adamaris nodded. "Bullets. Right," He ran a hand down the length of the rifle barrel, brows furrowed as he looked at it. "It doesn't feel right. Fucking shooting people like this. They're _people._" He moaned, sounding in genuine pain as he slouched down further in the seat, temple resting against the cool car window. Now that some of the fear and blind adrenaline somewhat left their systems, realization took over. Dragon, a natural BAMF and generic badass, once cared for the lives of at least any six people at a time. She easily did anything to protect them, and even murder played second fiddle to the safety of those people. But Adamaris hated violence, guns, all of that. He convulsed in the seat, spazzing slightly and Dragon stared at him in worry.

"Pull over, I need to pee."

The city way behind them, Dragon pulled over into a fucking _ditch_, pretty much, since like 70% of Zi consisted of stupid desert. Dust and dirt flew into the Hummer's red body, mixing with blood and city grime. Adamaris rolled out of the car and stumbled a few feet away, leaving the rifle behind. "Cover me?" He called over his shoulder, already undoing the fly of his jeans.

Dragon nodded and clambered onto the Hummer's hood. Desert. All desert. Nothing that way, nothing this way; the city far behind them now, at least three hours. Dragon shuddered, despite the intense heat, and cracked her knuckles. Something she always did when nervous. She cracked them ago, relishing in the way her bones popped.

"Keep doing that, and your fingers will be all crooked and stuff," Adamaris warned, hopping onto the Hummer and sitting next to Dragon. He looked at her, eyes filled with worry and sympathy because seriously, neither of them deserved this shit. "Are you okay?" He asked, impossibly soft in a world where nobody could hear them.

The question, a stupid one, really, caused Dragon to bark out a hoarse laugh. "Am I okay? Really? I don't know. My Zoids and Organoid, my friends and family….all eaten to shit or infected or something and you're asking if I'm okay?" Dragon never lost it like this and certainly she went too far, because Adamaris frowned a sad, hurt frown and slipped back into the car without a word.

Dragon felt like Zi's Biggest Douche.

They drove for two more hours. Adamaris, curled up in the front seat, and Dragon, scanning the road ahead of them for zombies or Zoids, however unlikely since they were still in a _desert._ And the air conditioning couldn't be risked or else the Hummer would implode or something. Two hours of stifling silence. Dragon exhaled.

"I'm sorry."

Adamaris grunted.

"No really, I am. I shouldn't have yelled like that its just….the heat, and everything." Dragon stammered, infinitely lame. Adamaris raised his head, looked at her with his best poker face before grinning. One long leg outstretched and he rested it across Dragon's lap, smile still on his lips.

"You are forgiven." He laughed.

---

Finally, fucking _finally_, they came across an actual civilization. A town, if that, with no skyscrapers, nestled in the rolling dunes of the desert. But at this point, mud huts and an outhouse would have worked because Dragon couldn't take this car anymore. Adamaris unfolded his map, which had been a fat help since their city had been pretty much the only big city on this damn continent. His finger traced a line and Dragon sat quietly.

"Troy's Valley," Adamaris read off. "Huh. Fitting name, I guess," Since the place clearly lived in a valley. "Says here, population of 328. But there's a bigger place, Red City, about a day and a half from here." Adamaris folded the map up and looked at Dragon.

"Let's stay here for a night." She suggested. Adamaris nodded, and the car rumbled into the town.

Of course, there were zombies. Organoids, too. Dragon definitely thought she saw a flying, reptilian shadow zoom over them. Thankfully, the town, so small in size, didn't seem to house any Zoids. That or they left. After slowly crawling through the streets, Dragon pulled up to a decent-sized house, bigger then the rest at least, complete with fenced in property. The Hummer snaked up the driveway, coming to a stop just before the garage.

"Let's go check it out," Dragon said, hopping out of the car with Adamaris right behind. Like thieves and murderers, the duo creeped up to windows and peered inside. Looking for signs of life. Or un-life. Whichever. The place seemed vacant, and Dragon wondered if the family that lived here managed to pack up their bags and leave before the worst of the disease arrived. She hoped so. Not only would it be awesome to know that people managed to survive this thing, but Dragon really did not want to blow off more heads. "Looks safe to me." Dragon finished, trying the front door to no avail. Locked.

Obviously, they needed the door to stop any zombies from barging right in. They couldn't just shoot it down, so the pair snuck about like deviants, looking for a key, anything. No success. Dragon seriously considered breaking a window or crawling through the chimney.

"Dragon! Dragon, over here!" Adamaris called, voice hoarse but stupidly loud; hello, they were supposed to stay _quiet._ Dragon, fearing a fresh attack of zombies, came barreling around the side of the house, remembering that she forgot her rifle in the car. Now they were defenseless. But there were no zombies, just Adamaris standing by a screen door. His face lit up with hope.

'We can tear this off and use the Hummer to block it or something. Or use a couch." Adamaris offered, plucking at the screen with his fingers. Honestly, Dragon saw no wrong with his plan and she wanted to dive into a comfy bed _right now_. Or take a shower.

The screen ripped apart easily enough, and Dragon worried about the definite lack of an actual door. But after slipping through the ripped screen and tumbling inside, the sight of furniture quickly wiped away the worry. Apparently they landed in the living room, and the sight of couches and a T.V. stand and even a big clock totally eased Dragon's anxiety. Sort of.

"Let's use this couch. Help me move it." Adamaris said the second he squeezed through the opening. Dragon shot him a look. Bossy.

"Let's check it out first?"

Adamaris fixed the door with a worried look because, okay, anything could just waltz right in. Dragon huffed.

'Okay, block the door first."

She and Adamaris both were hungry, dehydrated, and exhausted. Moving the largest couch felt similar to attempting to pick up a small Zoid. After fifteen minutes of grunting, shoving, pulling, swearing, and tugging, they finally managed to firmly block the door with the couch's impressive bulk. Dragon slid to the floor, utterly whipped. Adamaris nudged her with the toe of his boots.

"C'mon, we got work to do."

Dragon noted that still; they didn't go back for the guns. She hated this sense of being unprotected. If some slimy scary popped out from beyond a corner, they were done. Zombiefied. Dragon shuddered at the thought, but willed her tired body to follow after Adamaris.

No electricity, which sucked. Dragon sniffed at the milk in the refrigerator, gagging at the sour stink. The cheese, deli meats, and most of the fruit faired no better, cooked to rotten disgust in the devilish Zi sun. Water bottles, thankfully, didn't rot and despite being on the warm side, it tasted fine. Dragon chugged a wonderful gulp of the liquid, relishing the stuff as it flooded her throat.

"There's stuff in the pantries. Crackers. Cookies. Pancake mix. Cereal. Beef jerky and dried fruit, even. Awesome," Adamaris rattled off, excitement rising in his voice as he shuffled boxes and packages around to expose hidden wonders. "Oh Eve, they even have noodles and rice." His face broke out in the biggest grin Dragon had seen since this shit first started. His gray eyes sparkled in the quickly fading light.

"Tonight, we feast like kings!"

But, they had work to do first. Adamaris closed and locked the gated fence while Dragon drove the Hummer around back. She wanted to do a bit of exploring, see what they could take out of the small town, but daylight was fading fast. And Zi got cold when the sun went down, so they needed to find a way to stay warm. Adamaris helped with getting the supplies out of the car, not that they had much. Two water bottles and half a protein bar. The rifles.

Without talking, they went around to make sure everything remained locked up. Dragon feverishly wished for a flashlight. The house, while in such a small town, had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, living room, and even a basement. But the living room held the fireplace, which the duo desperately needed. Dragon knew how to start a fire, but then came the problem that they didn't have wood.

She posed this dilemma to Adamaris. He stared at her for a moment before going to the kitchen and coming back with a wooden chair. Dragon nodded in approval and went at it, hacking the thing into smaller pieces with a hammer she found in the basement.

"I can make, like, noodles or something. Pasta with butter. There's canned corn." Adamaris said, padding softly around the kitchen. He managed to dig up four flashlights from various places in the house. Dragon mentally thanked the people who lived here in the Before. One flashlight, clenched tight in her hand, hovered in the fireplace as Dragon placed the wood here and there. A packet of matches lay by her side. Once the firewood looked to be in all the right places, Dragon struck a match and prayed she wouldn't burn the house down.

Five minutes later, voila. Roaring fire, basking the room in a pleasant orange glow and warm heat. Adamaris walked into the room, a look of defeat on his face and a box of pasta in his hand.

"Burners are dead. Have to use the fire, I guess."

Dragon scooted out of the way as he came back with a wooden spoon and a pot. Adamaris cast an uneasy glance at the crackling fire as he shifted the stuff around in his arms. "Honestly, I have no idea how this will work." He admitted, because they couldn't just like, put the pot on the fire. It would melt the metal.

Stomachs rumbling, the two gave up. "We'll figure it out tomorrow, after sleep. I am _beat._" Adamaris yawned, returning from the kitchen once again, this time armed with beef jerky and two cans of peaches. Dragon collected blankets from around the house while he wrestled open the tops. Exhaustion pulled at her limbs and made her vision turn wavy. But she couldn't sleep, not yet.

The feast of dried meat and canned fruit tasted like the blood of Eve herself. Dragon seriously missed actual food, and the two wolfed down the nourishment in record time. Even the beef jerky, which Dragon kinda hated since it tasted like leather. But still, food; real food. Peach syrup dotting her face, Dragon flumped down on the carpeted floor and stared at the ceiling. The rifles rested peacefully on the coffee table, within arm's reach.

"I'm going to bed." Dragon announced. And if that meant the floor, fuck it, she did not want to move for _anything_. Adamaris chuckled and rolled over to her, the fire casting a warm glow over his body. Given the position, Dragon went to wiggle away; the word pedophile screamed in her head, even though Adamaris was as far from the word as possible.

"Right. They have actual _beds_ here, so let's go." Adamaris said. After some minor pushing and shoving, Dragon gradually hauled herself to her feet and trundled after him, grabbing the rifles before as she went. Second nature now, taking these dangerous weapons with them, the only things they owned in which to protect themselves. Dragon longed for the return of the Zoids of their Organoids.

The master bedroom, easily the size of both their bedrooms back in the apartment, spread before them like a beautiful oasis. Without thinking, Dragon dive-bombed onto the massive bed, her body liquefying into the snuggly soft sheets and Ra, it just felt _so good._ Her bones melted into nothing as a blissful sigh escaped her nostrils. Heaven. Adamaris took it slow, in that wary way of his; carefully taking the rifles and propping them up against the wall before tip-toeing around the room, checking to make sure nothing looked wrong. Dragon scoffed. No Zombie Apocalypse could move her from this bed.

After ages of roaming around, Adamaris slowly settled in the bed, his body stiff and careful next to Dragon's. An awkward silence came over them.

"Is….is this alright?" Adamaris asked, voice low and polite but strangely not him. As if the idea of having to sleep next to a girl really bothered him. Dragon wondered if she smelled bad. Probably did; a shower didn't reach high on her list of trying to survive this Hell. "I can sleep in the other bedroom, or on the couch." He started to shuffle away. Dragon reached out and grabbed his wrist, skin warm and smooth under her fingers.

"No, stay," She ordered, tugging him back into bed and hey, in no way was this weird. "Why the Hell did we make a fire if we're just gonna sleep in here?" Came a mumbled question after Adamaris lowered himself under the covers, pausing for a moment before spooning himself against Dragon. Zi deserts were really cold at night.

Outside, something screeched. Something vicious in nature. Dragon imagined an Organoid, all black, with drooling fangs and Hellish red optics. A silence hovered above them for a few seconds once the noise died down. Dragon heard her heartbeat hammering against her chest.

"I'd much rather sleep in a bed then a couch. And the fire warms the house up a little." Adamaris answered, his breath skimming Dragon's neck. In no way could this get any creepier. Dragon forced herself to relax, to melt back into the sheets and eventually she did, allowing sleep to pull her under, the warmth of her friend just another blanket.

---

The water worked. Dragon stood in the shower for the longest time, letting the steamy hot water roast her blood and cook off the sweat and grime. Dully, she noted the fading color in her bangs. The tripod of blue, green, and purple dyed the water a blackish mix as it swirled down the drain. Dragon scrubbed her hair and made a mental note to get some hair dye ASAP.

After drying off and putting on a new set of clothing (the family here had a daughter; a couple years older then Dragon, maybe, but still. Clothes!) Dragon wandered into the living room to see Adamaris poking the fire. Before Dragon showered, they worked together to build a sort of hanging chain above the fire, allowing a pot to waver in midair but still be heated by the roaring embers.

Pasta smelled like the best breakfast right now. The smell literally caused drool to flood over Dragon's tongue. She hastily swallowed it back down. "You can go take a shower now, if you want," She said, leaning against the wall. "I'll watch the pasta."

Adamaris got to his feet. Neither of them said anything last night, about _sleeping_ in the same bed, but the awkwardness definitely lurked around them like an Elephander in the room. "Yeah, sure. Just stir it every once in a while. It's almost done. Won't be long." He spoke brokenly, rushed, gaze averting Dragon's as he walked by her. Dragon shot him an annoyed look before walking over to crouch in front of the fire, her ears straining to hear any noises from outside.

They each devoured two bowls of pasta. The food tasted that good. Dragon ate so fast she nearly choked, but who gave a fuck? The fire had been put out and once they both ate their fill, Adamaris picked up the bowls and placed them neatly in the sink. "We'll have a better chance of getting rescued if we go to a bigger city. So pack up whatever we need; we're going to Red City." He stated, an order with no room for questioning.

While Dragon didn't exactly approve of this new bossy nature, she agreed. Staying here meant certain death. As they prepared to leave, pushing the couch blockade away from the back door and gathering all the food, water bottles, and extra blankets the Hummer could hold, the noise came again. Louder this time, as in _right fucking there. _Dragon peered out the living room window and she saw it, all big and pointy with a long tail and broken nails. It couched, half-bent, in front of the locked gate, cloudy red optics surveying the property. The beast slit open its jaw and exhaled a short puff of flame.

In the Before, everybody owned an Organoid. Some were basic models. Others were towering fiends with a ridiculous sort of weaponry. The Organoid that stood at their gate looked like a basic model, draconic in build with pitch-black armor, blacker then Zi's moonless nights. Hooked silver nails, silver spikes and silver fangs, all shattered and chipped. Dragon had seen a lot of Organoids but this beast looked fucking scary.

"Atlas. Atlas, we need to go," Dragon said, quiet but steadily, eyes unwavering from the monster as it easily pulled itself over the gate. It stood there, on the lawn, some deadly infected monster, and just looked around. Not a care in the world. Just stood there, a statue, an ominous warning. Dragon saw the nostrils flaring. "Get whatever else we need, but be quiet."

By some mutual agreement, Adamaris nodded and didn't even step over to look out the window. Pathetically quiet, they tiptoed around the place and snatched up the crackers and peanut butter and matches and the flashlights. The hammer, band-aids and even a first-aid kit. Dragon tasted her pasta breakfast coming back up in her throat. Even with rifles, no way could they fight off an Organoid. The noise would attract other zombies. Dragon felt the start of a breakdown building in her chest.

Everything loaded in the Hummer's trunk and backseat, the two slid into the car and looked at each other. "That thing is gonna come after us." Dragon said, obviously. Adamaris sighed and slouched in the seat. Despite the sleep, he still looked beyond exhausted. Bags under his eyes, skin pale. It made Dragon sad, like she put him through this personally.

"Yeah, but you know what? Who gives a damn anymore. If it follows us we shoot it." Adamaris answered, the hard edge in his voice making Dragon shudder a tiny bit. The key fit perfectly in the ignition and Dragon closed her eyes as the engine roared to life.

The one thing louder then the deafening bellow came from the Organoid; it screamed a bloodthirsty howl and Dragon wasted absolutely no time at all in slamming the Hummer into drive and tearing the bloody fuck _out of there_. Adamaris jumped, eyes wide, and clutched the Hummer's door as the car went from zero to fifty in like two seconds. The machine revved around the house like a tank, a Zoid, everything unstoppable in life. The Organoid stood before them, the obstacle in their getaway.

Dragon wanted to mow it down. Done. Road kill. Splatter on the tires, a mess of wires and metal. The Hummer picked up speed. Plow right through it. Through the gate and down the street, running and driving, a beeline for red City and nowhere else. The Organoid leered and bared its chipped fangs; _come and get me._ Wings flared, torn with holes but still able to produce flight. The Hummer picked up speed.

The impact felt exactly like Zi stopping. Unmoving, refusing to spin and keep everything in sync. Boom. Like a fist. Like Eve came down and punched Dragon, _bam!_ Right in the face. In the chest. Everywhere. The Hummer shook, groaning, the Organoid plastered like a metal mosquito on the hood. The broken face growled at her, the mouth opened. Dragon saw the cannon lodged in the throat. The orb of fire building there. The Hummer streamlined straight through the gate, blowing it apart. Metal flew like glitter. The Organoid's wings snapped off and hit the ground in a heap behind them. Dragon picked out every shade of red in those oculars, so close to her eyes, separated only by a piece of glass.

The fire grew bigger. Dragon spun the wheel, trying in vain to throw the brute off.

"Drive straight! I'll shoot it off!" Adamaris yelled, Dragon barely heard him over the own pounding of whatever in her ears. Fear? Adrenaline? Rage? Adamaris grabbed a rifle and slinked out the open window, half in and half out. The rifle loaded and clicked, he leveled it at the Organoid's shoulder and pulled the trigger.

The bullet connected solidly with the beast's arm. It hissed a noise of pain, head snapping over to glare at Adamaris. Another bullet clicked into the chamber. Dragon took one hand from the steering wheel and roughly pulled on his pants pockets, trying to earn his attention. The Organoid blocked most of her view of the road.

"You shoot the neck, it'll ignite the flame cannon. It'll explode." She informed, quickly, the Hummer still swerving left and right. Adamaris nodded, took aim, and fired once again. The bullet hit right in the monster's upper jaw, blowing it right off. Clean hit. The Organoid squealed and convulsed, black fluid rushing from its wounds to drip wet and thick onto the Hummer's hood.

It fell off. Hit the ground like a corpse, exactly the same as road kill. It lay there, twitching and gasping for air that it didn't need with a mouth it no longer possessed. Dragon drifted a bit, and the Hummer groaned in kind before coming to a stop. The Organoid snarled, black gunk bubbling up from its throat. The fire had gone completely.

Dragon willed her body to calm down. "Shoot it.' She said, watching the suffering body that lay a few dozens yards away from them. Adamaris looked at her.

"We need to save bullets."

"I don't want to leave it there. At least end it's suffering'" Dragon tore her gaze from the dying thing and looked at him. "Quick, before other zombies come."

Adamaris sighed, his eyes shut for a moment. Silence. Silence, safe for the labored gasping of the Organoid. Dragon thought of Griffon, of Fenrir and Seto. Of her friends. Adamaris got of the car, holding the rifle tight. He stood by the driver's side and aimed, taking sweet time before pulling the trigger once again and his aim improved so much in such a short time; the Organoid's head erupted from the bullet's force and the body soon followed. A display of fireworks, a lost life, the "we were here" from two idiot kids.

Adamaris got back in the Hummer and put on his seatbelt. The hood looked like a Dark Horn rammed it; all crunched and smushed and making funny noises. Dragon patted the dashboard and thanked the people who made these cars. They really made one Hell of a monster. Adamaris rested the gun in his lap and stared straight ahead. Dragon put the car back into drive.

"Red City." She said softly.

Adamaris nodded. "Red City." He echoed.

---

Adamaris is one of my favorite characters because no matter how I write him.....he's always really awkward. Which is fine. I love him anyway. But yeah....awkward.

I also love Hummers. I want to buy a bunch of Hummers one day and just soak up their gas-gozzling awesomeness. Hummers run things over which is stupidly beyond epic.


End file.
